Of Dreams and Realities
by Bitten Nails
Summary: Reality was a cruel thing, and it didn't matter if you were the most powerful warlock in history, or that you were slowly going out of your mind from years of misery. It will utterly destroy you. (now a two-shot)
1. Chapter 1

( _the darkness fades in—he walks alone_ )

He wandered, barely aware of everything around him, lost in the cruel prison his thoughts caged him in. There was no escape.

( _find the key; but there's no key. . ._ )

Merlin had, on occasion, pondered on how the world would turn out. Faced with the reality of his immortality, the subject had been inevitable. However, he never actually thought he would last this long. Even with thousands— _three thousand_ —years on his head, he still held the belief that somehow, he would not live long enough to witness the earth's dying days.

Merlin snorted. _Of course_ , he thought. What was he thinking? He should've learned his lesson years ago. Reality was a cruel thing, and it didn't matter if you were the most powerful warlock in history, or that you were slowly going out of your mind from years of misery. It will utterly destroy you. Everything great was just a temporary illusion real life created. Happy endings were just lies. Nothing and no one was spared from it. This was fact.

Everything was a hopeless cause, and people who thought otherwise were the biggest liars to have ever existed. Merlin should know. He was one of said liars up until a few centuries ago.

He had been waiting for someone. Someone who would save him from this mindless existence, silence the ghosts that hovered in his mind. . . Someone who would bring back hope and brightness to a darkness he had so desperately tried to fend himself from, but was slowly failing in.

 _Arthur_. . .

But no one came. The darkness grew, day by day, threatening to overwhelm the already precarious hold on his sanity. Camelot seemed like a distant dream now, muddled by the waking hours of the nightmare he was currently in. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps it _was_ only a dream and was only now realizing it.

 _Gaius with his vast knowledge of everything._

 _Gwen with her sweet disposition and understanding._

 _His mother with her quiet strength._

 _The Knights and their unwavering loyalty._

 _Camelot. . . Albion. . ._

 _Arthur. . ._

No. It wasn't a dream. It had been real. Once, it had all been real. He had known what happiness felt like. He had friends, a home, a _purpose_ to his existence, a reason to wake up with a smile in the morning. But now he didn't. There was nothing now. Nothing to hold him up, nothing to make him hope. His heart was ancient and empty. It had been too long.

( _too long without hope—how could you live at all? you're a monster, an alien, an outcast—alone_ )

He trudged through mud and scum, broken metal and crumbled cement—the remnants of a vast civilization that killed itself. The sun was hot on his back, hotter than he remembered it being when there were vibrant trees around him to shade from the harsh heat. Even the air felt different—suffocating.

( _we are alone_ )

The warlock had been a bit dismayed to find that the wonders of magic had faded in the background over the centuries, but he had convinced himself that it was probably for the best ( _because you didn't care anymore; not anymore did you care youdidn'tcarecareCARECARECARE—_ ). The Golden Age of Camelot, where magic was accepted, was a magnificent time, but it didn't last. Of course it didn't last. It was too perfect. . . too _happy_ a time to last.

When Gwen died, Albion didn't stand a chance. It gradually crumbled under selfishness and greed. Too many kings and queens wanted to claim the ultimate throne, but none of them were capable to weild such power wisely—none of them were Gwen ( _or Arthur_ ). Leon became the next in line, by Gwen's will, and fended off a couple of wars, but he was old then, and Merlin. . . Merlin hadn't known what to do ( _because you didn't care anymore; not anymore did you care youdidn'tcarecareCARECARECARE—_ ).

And so, Albion crumbled. People forgot. Overall peace became a comforting myth, and wars broke out. The world had changed. It had grown to something almost wonderful, even without magic, but people, as always, were too greedy, too damn _young_ to understand the concept of consequences ( _look who's calling the kettle black; or the pot purple; or the black pot a kettle—what?_ ). But Merlin should've seen this one coming. Nothing good ever lasted forever. He was simply deluding himself—

"Watch it," a harsh voice called out.

Merlin grunted, feeling a dull pain bloom in his chest, the part the woman's thin, almost sharp, shoulder hit. He murmured an apology, so lost in his thoughts he didn't once question the presence of another person, instead continuing his long, somehow arduous, trek of a ruined, nameless city.

"Hey!"

( _hello, hello—_ )

Merlin's steps faltered.

He turned slowly, afraid of what he might see. Or, perhaps, of what he _might not_ see. Because if he turned around and realized that what he thought he saw, heard, _felt_ , was nothing but an hallucination, he didn't know if he could take it. Another heavy disappointment to tip the scales, and he just _knew_ he would finally fall off the edge. And yet, for some reason, he knew he _had_ to know.

( _this pain is deserved, you know it is_ )

The girl's frame was thin and frail, her face gaunt and framed by black hair. But she carried her shoulders straight and regal in a way that was so goddamn _familiar_. Her piercing pale-green eyes looked at him with wariness, as her mouth opened. "Are you real?" she asked.

Merlin stared, unable to comprehend, not wanting to believe.

"I don't know," he whispered.

The girl's expression brightened, and then she grinned. "You're weird." She held a hand out. "My name is Morgana. You are?"

( _reality, reality. . ._ )

* * *

Found this on my laptop. I've forgotten I even wrote this! This was _2 years ago_. Which means it's been 2 years since I last watched the finale, _and I'm still not over it_. Mind you, I've only watched it _once_ (I _refused_ to watch it again), but the fact that I'm still affected shows how much it frakkin _sucked_.

Also, I think I thought of writing like this when I read a fanfic (though I think it was from another fandom, I can't remember), so if you guys know a fanfic with a format like this, let me know :3

Anyways! Thank you for reading! ^-^


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

( _happiness is just outside your window—your barred, impregnable window_ )

"Your name is Merlin?"

"Yes."

"That's a weird name."

"Yes."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

Merlin looked at her. "How did you know?"

"I didn't." She grinned.

Merlin blinked.

 _So familiar_ , he thought for the umpteenth time that day. Like in a dream, he had introduced himself to her, unable to stop himself. Even now, he could not snap out of it. And he didn't know if he wanted to. His mind was a mess of emotions, whirling his thoughts up, down, left, right. He was surprised he could still form coherent thoughts enough to speak.

(" _are you real?"_ )

"So?" The girl—Morgana ( _no no_ ) ( _yes_ ), she said her name was—raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

She shot him a look. "What does it mean?"

"What?"

"Your name," she repeated. "What does it mean?"

( _what does it mean? what does this mean? what do you mean?_ )

"I don't know." Merlin knew. He knew he knew. But for the life of him he couldn't remember.

She frowned ( _turn it upside down_ ). "It's okay if it's embarrassing, you know."

"What?" Merlin decided that was his favorite word of the day.

"Your name," she repeated again, somewhat impatiently. "It's okay if the meaning is embarrassing, _Merlin_. I just want to know." She smiled assuredly ( _are you real?_ ).

( _you deserve this, you know you do_ )

His name on her lips was like a shot to the chest. Merlin's breath hitched. He had not heard his name uttered in that voice in a _long_ time. It seized his heart in a death grip, reminding him of _so much_ , and _torturing_ him with hope he had violently pushed away centuries ago.

( _but where had it really gone?_ )

He shook his head, unable to speak around the boulder in his throat. Tears, long been unused, thought to be dried up, sprang easily in his eyes, blurring his vision of _her_. Her that was so familiar— _so goddamn familiar_. The dirt on her gaunt face, the rags on her thin frame could not hide the fact that it was _her_.

 _Oh god oh god oh god oh god—_

( _are you real?_ )

 _It can't be her. It can't be her._ It can't be her _. It can't._

( _because everyone is dead and gone_ )

"Hey. . ."

( _no no no no_ )

". . . are you alright?"

( _hope for a cure to your madness_ )

"Do you need help?" She reached for him.

It was like in slow motion. Her hand reached towards him, like the blade of the guillotine that would seal his fate, or perhaps like the sweet song of a siren before she smiled her cruel smile and drowned her victims. But his feet caught on a rusty pipe, and he was falling ( _down, down, down_ ).

A hand gripped his wrist, stopping him from the inevitable pain his fall would give him ( _"do you need help?" asked the lady as she cuffed your wrists to seal your fate_ ).

It was like a jolt of electricity. Starting from his wrist, and traveling the speed of light towards his heart ( _ancient and lifeless_ ). The shock of it left his insides feeling _hot_ with a fire that happily burned through the constant coldness that was his companion for millennia.

"Whoa." She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling. "You're a clumsy one!"

( _are you real?_ )

Merlin scrambled, not really trying to wrench her grip off his wrists. Her skin was _glorious_ on his, and despite the voice in his head screaming at him with foreboding, he could not, for the life of him, let her let go. The contact was his lifeline, the only thing keeping him afloat from the violent darkness swirling in his head. And suddenly, Merlin knew he couldn't let her go. Not this time.

Using his free hand, he reached towards her hair gently, almost delicately. It was dry and rough, baked under the sun's unrelenting heat, but to Merlin it felt as if it was made from the most delicate silk.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but dizziness, hard and overwhelming, suddenly hit him. And then there was darkness.

( _are you real?_ )

.

.

.

.

* * *

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.

I had originally intended to make this story as a one-chapter thing, but I recently went back and rekindled (*cough* relapsed on *cough*) my love for Merlin (and fanfiction, in general) after _years_ of not accessing this site (for some reason, fanfiction . net was always down in Japan until now, and I guess I forgot, with real life getting in the way and all that), and I re-read this and found that I still find Merlin's story as fascinating as I did before. You guys know that feeling of not hearing a song you used to love all the time before, and suddenly you're hearing it again, and it's like you're falling in love like the first time, and you feel so giddy and high all the time? Yep. I felt like I should leave something, like a thank-you, or a mark, to remind myself that despite all the changes I'm going through, the problems that feel like they're never going to be solved, I'm still essentially the same girl who fell in love with Merlin's story, and became part of such a wonderful community like this. Of course, my writing has degraded a little (years out of practice), so I also used this as a challenge to myself. Let me know what you think! ^^

As always, thank you for reading! =)


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